


What are you fighting for?

by PhakeFysics



Series: Fallen Hero - Abyss/Anton [15]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Bodily Harm, Other, Strong Language, depictions of violence, strong imagery of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 01:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20519984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics
Summary: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	What are you fighting for?

He whimpers in pain, crawling away, dragging his broken leg behind him. The same one you crushed before. Part of you loves his bleeding, helpless frame, dragging itself pitifully away from you. You watch as he tries in vain to get away, to catch his breath.

You hear the soft begging in his mind. He’s scared. This was the worst idea he’s ever had. He thought he could talk his way out of it. He learned that Abyss isn’t a talker. Abyss is a figure of action. And that action is always violent.

You stalk towards him as he wheezes out a labored breath, trying to lean against the wall. He’s bloody and broken, no match for your telepathy, no matter how hard he tries to keep his walls strong - they’re made of straw and you’re the Big Bad Wolf, coming to devour him as a light lunch. 

You step over him and watch as terrified blues swivel up at you, watching his own terrified, bloodied visage staring back at him through your visor. 

“Please… Abyss… you don’t...”

“Don’t _what_, Herald?”

“There are better ways... “

You kneel down, wanting to watch his panic up close. He coughs up a globule of bloodied spit and hocks it off to the side, weakly reaching to wipe his split lip. 

“I get it… you hate the governments, the corporations. But destroying buildings isn’t how to go about it,” he wheezes, subtly trying to get away from you, but he’s against a wall.

You tilt your head, glaring lightly at him, watching his shuddering form - the pain must be immeasurable right now. You have him completely alone and even if they should pinpoint him - they’d never get to him in time. Not after you’re done with him.

You grip his chin a bit too tightly and he’s forced to comply, wincing in pain, coughing a fresh smattering of blood against those perfect lips. Lips now split and bloodied and swollen. Yet, somehow, he still wore the wounds far too well.

“You know nothing of my motives, my wants, my desires. You don’t know me, Herald. No one does, and no one will,” Fuck he’s got you talking. That little bastard, but it’s too late. You’ve started and you can feel his mental grin at hooking you.

He lifts a bruised hand to gently grab your wrist, no real malice behind it. He’s reaching out in comfort and you’re momentarily washed away in the tides of his positivity. The Rat King has to pull you back into the boat - no… Danny is the boat… The Rat King has to pull you back into the ocean, away from the boat. 

Herald looks into your mask, trying to peer past it, but you know he can’t see anything but his own reflection. “Abyss... “ The way he says your name makes your skin crawl in a way you can’t place squarely on disgust, but you’re sure it’s some sort of emotion you don’t have time for.

“Herald,” Your voice hissed back.

“You know… someone once told me that I would find myself at the Gates of Hell, there would be a day that I would quit-”

“Please tell me you’re quitting. I’d love to hear that news,” you drawl, interrupting him and he just smiles past your grip despite his obvious pain. He just wheezes in a breath

“I won’t quit. Because someone has to stand up to the evil in the world.”

“Oh, am I evil now? Earlier you were saying I was misguided, misunderstood, like a common child,” You lean close, your visor nearly touching his nose, your voice hissing low and making a scraping noise.

Herald flinches and you grin a feral grin, gripping his jaw tighter and he winces, trying not to cry out. You chuckle at his discomfort, claws unsheathing from your free hand and you dig them into his abdomen, making him gargle out a cry of pain, blood spattering his lips again and your visor. 

You dig in, your palm nearly flat against his stomach and he knows better than to struggle. You hold him there as he stares into the visor defiantly.

“I… know you’re… angry… you’re mad… I know I’m at those Gates… but I’ll fight until… my dying breath… because… I have something worth fighting for. What are you fighting for, Abyss?”

Questions tumbled in your head like loose socks in a dryer and you pause, “Revenge,” you grate lowly, considering his pained expression, your claws still deep in his gut - every breath he takes is labored and wracked with agony.

“And what are you fighting for, little bird?” you know he wants to answer, and somehow… part of you already knows, but you want to hear it from his mouth.

He doesn’t say anything, his face contorted in pain as he grabs your wrist on his face with both hands. You brush his thoughts and someone’s face floods your mind. Someone you somehow know, but have never seen in your life.

You know this man to be Anton… but something’s… wrong with him. He looks strong, charismatic, charming. He has a smile that makes Herald melt a little every time. It’s a man Herald fights for each day - who takes in every teaching, every word of wisdom, every uttered breath.

You blink back from Herald’s thoughts and you regard him coldly. “So you love this… Anton fellow… I see,” You click your tongue idly and his eyes go wide. The silent pleas and begging for Anton’s safety flood your mind and you have to strengthen your walls. Herald attempts to struggle from your grip, forgetting momentarily that your claws are still embedded into him and he cries out in pain, stilling himself.

You enjoy the private joke between yourself and you finally yanked your claws out, Herald’s body arching slightly in resistance then thudding back against the ground pitifully. He’s beginning to black out from the pain and blood loss and you resist a sigh. And here you were just beginning to have fun. 

Herald’s eyes flutter and you sigh, wanting to kill him, but something stays your hand. Somewhere, deep down, Anton pleads to spare him. Pitiful emotions getting in the way. You’ll deal with Anton later… but for now you huff, pulling out Herald’s phone and dialing Argent’s number and set it on Herald’s chest, letting it ring. They can trace the call to get to Herald… maybe.

You drop the poor battered blond on the ground fully, his body limp and you simply slip back into the shadows for now. You curse yourself for being weak. But you knew Herald would be out of the running for some time at this point, leaving you free to contend with the others.


End file.
